Juliet shrugged. “Frida said I was muscle.”
Leo sighed heavily. “I mean, most execs have their muscle dressed in bullet-resistant suits, not frontline dropship gear.” He sighed and shrugged. “I guess it’ll make a point, huh? We’re supposed to throw ‘em off their game. Don’t worry, I can work with it.” Juliet still had her visor up, so she was sure Leo could see the irritation on her face, but he sighed again and stepped out of the doorway leading to Tanaka’s office, refusing to make eye contact with her. “Boss wants to talk to you.”
She didn’t reply; she just looked past him to the office beyond and strode through. When she heard him take a breath to say something more, she closed the door behind her, perhaps a little too forcefully. Tanaka was sitting behind a modern-looking glass desk with heavy powder-black steel legs. He had it on the left side of the room so he could face the door on his right and look at the expansive view of the city on the left. Juliet took in the view, admiring the beauty of Luna’s towers with their sleek lines and carefully placed exterior lights outlining corporate logos. Even more interesting were the tens of thousands of illuminated windows. She wondered how long she could lose herself zooming in on the tiny separate boxes of human activity, watching the occupants as they put their habits on display.
“Have a seat, Lucky.” Tanaka pointed to one of the two black leather chairs before his desk. Juliet walked over, her armor, boots, and gear making her steps sound like stomps, and sat down. “I heard Leo. He likes to try to push your buttons. Don’t worry, your equipment is suitable. I knew many corporate execs who had similarly equipped personal guards.”
“Thank you!” Juliet didn’t want to admit how much Leo’s comment had gotten to her.
“Let’s talk about why you don’t have a sword on your waist.”
“Are you serious? I almost thought Frida was messing with me when she said you were upset about that. You really want me carrying a dull blade around when I’m on the job?”
He didn’t frown, exactly, but any hint of amusement evaporated from his sharp features. “Was I unclear? Everywhere you go, you must have that sword. It must become like an appendage. Part of your mind must always be aware of it. Moving with it should become the norm. The idea of catching it on a piece of furniture, another person, a doorway, your clothing—this should become an impossibility. The idea of you being caught without it while in the shower or bed or . . .”
Juliet groaned and would have rubbed her temples if not for her helmet. “I’m not there yet, Rutger, so wouldn’t it be a little risky to take it along on a real job?”
“I think not. You just don’t want to trouble yourself with it, which I understand, but you know it’s not likely to cause you harm.” Before Juliet could respond, he held up one hand and said, “I have a compromise for you. Take a real blade, not a monoblade, but something that, if the occasion called for it, could at least be used as a weapon.”
Juliet didn’t want to argue about the topic further, so she just nodded. “If that’ll get you off my back.”
He laughed, a short, barking sound, and stood up. “I must truly be a different man. If one of my old students said such a thing . . .”
“What?” Juliet also stood. “You’d beat ‘em ‘til they pissed blood?”
Tanaka didn’t respond. He opened a dark wooden cabinet behind his desk, which drew Juliet’s eyes to the built-in shelves beside it—they were covered with interesting wooden curios and artwork. She saw bowls, carved animals, pieces that looked like polished driftwood, and a dozen other little objects. While he moved things around in the cabinet, she said, “I like your, um, artwork.”
“I made the bowls,” was his only reply. Juliet raised an eyebrow, focusing on one of the objects in question, zooming in with her optics to see the lustrous, red-tinted wood, the delicate curve of the lip, and the painstaking little details, like a thin tracery of engraved angular patterns halfway up the side.
“How do you even do that? Make a bowl? Carve it out of a block of wood?”
“I had a lathe in my shop back on Titan.”
“You had a shop? You carved bowls even before your, um, change?”
When Tanaka turned to her, he held a katana-style sword in one hand. It had a dark, navy-blue hilt, but the rest of it, scabbard and pommel and guard, were all black. She noticed a modern belt attachment on the scabbard and breathed a soft sigh of relief—she wouldn’t have to wrap an obi around her armor. “This will attach to your gun belt,” he said, as though he’d read her mind. “As to your question, yes, even when I was a cold-hearted mercenary, I sought a creative outlet that didn’t involve torture or bloodshed.”
“Are you . . . being droll?” Juliet laughed and took the sword as Tanaka held it out.
He raised one eyebrow. “Is that allowed?”
She pulled the scabbard away from the sword a few inches, examining the shiny metal blade. It looked sharp, and she knew it would be; Tanaka wouldn’t let a sword go dull, even one he never used. The hilt was very comfortable, too. She wondered what it was made of. The blue fabric looked almost like silk, but it had a kind of friction to it that seemed to be holding her gloved hand as much as she was holding it. Her absolute ignorance when it came to swords other than the few she’d used suddenly struck her. “It’s beautiful.”
“It was one of my first truly good blades. I used it for a few years when I was younger than you.”
“You have a way of doing that—talking like you’re ancient. What are you? Forty?”
He nodded. “About that.”
“Yeah, well, these days that isn’t old. Quit talking yourself into the retirement home, would you?” Juliet heard herself speak and recognized her words, but part of her was stunned by them. Why was she trying to be nice? Was she trying to make up for being a bitch when she’d first come in? For disrespecting him as a teacher?
In any case, he ignored the words. “Only as a last resort—you aren’t good enough to rely on the sword.”
Juliet chuckled softly as she connected the weapon to her belt. “Anything else, boss?”
“You’re the boss on this job. I’m happy that you thought to ask us for help. Frida told me you weren’t trying to hide it from me, and I appreciate that. I think this is a worthy cause—a job I’m proud to take on. I know that sounds . . .” He scrunched up his face, trying to find the right word, but finally shrugged and said, “Trite. It sounds trite, but you don’t know my mind. I’ve sat at this desk, looking out that window, thinking about the work we’ve done over the last few years, and, honestly, very little gives me any sort of pride. Then, you come along, and the first thing you want help with is cleaning up some corruption. It feels good. It makes me think I’m on the right path.”
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Again, Juliet found her mouth saying something nice before she could think about it, “I’m the last person to call anyone trite or sentimental, Tanaka. I’ve been accused of thinking with my heart too many times to remember.”
He nodded, and his lips betrayed a small smile. “I’m beginning to see that.”
Looking at his smile and then up to his chrome eyes, Juliet decided to continue letting her mouth have free rein, though a small part of her worried her words might backfire. “You know, those optics, the mirrored ones, people say folks who have ‘em are trying to hide from the world. It’s like wearing a mask or a helmet, and believe me, I know the empowering feeling the anonymity of a visored helmet can give. Still, I’d like to be able to look into your eyes . . .”
His expression had fallen flat, and Juliet felt her nerves give out, her mouth suddenly going dry like she’d way overstepped her bounds. She quickly stammered, “I, uh, don’t know why I said that. Forget it, all right?”
He smiled quickly, a fuller smile than she could remember seeing from him, yet it felt totally forced. He nodded and waved a hand. “Forgotten. You and Leo should get going.”
“Right.” Juliet hurriedly turned and strode to the door. Before she stepped through, she looked over her shoulder and said, “Thanks, Tanaka. For the sword, I mean. I’ll be careful with it.” He aimed his chrome eyes her way and nodded, then looked down at his desk, tapping on some invisible AUI elements. She stepped out to find Leo sitting at Frida’s desk.
He hopped to his feet. “Ready? Our ride’s waiting downstairs.”
“Ready.” Feeling the irony of the action, she slapped her visor down, presenting him with her mirrored countenance. She hefted her auto-shotgun crossways and stood at attention near the door, waiting for him to step around and lead the way.
“Roleplaying already, eh? I like it.” As he passed by her, hardly sparing her a glance, Juliet got a good look at him and had to admit he cleaned up nicely. His dark gray suit was very high-end, and she didn’t doubt that it had bullet-proof fabric in his vital areas. Angel flicked her optics through a quick scan and then highlighted the silhouettes of two pistols under his jacket and a knife on his ankle. She was glad that, if things went badly, he’d be ready for action.
While they waited for the elevator, Angel said, “That was awkward with Tanaka, but I appreciate you trying to be pleasant.”
“I can’t believe I said that about his eyes. I feel like a total goon.”
As usual, Angel was there to support her. “It was insightful, though. He chose that look for a reason, and your comment might invite further introspection.”
“Oh well. At least he didn’t get upset.”
“No, I don’t think so, but he was surprised and unsure how to respond. I’m fairly certain that’s what his facial expression was saying.” Angel almost sounded wistful, and Juliet had to bite her tongue physically to keep from teasing her again about Tanaka. Instead, she rode the elevator in silence and, when they reached the lobby, followed Leo to the waiting black, luxury town car. Once inside, after he’d touched the privacy button on the built-in jammer, he stretched out his legs and faced her in the spacious passenger compartment.
“You can drop the act for a while. We’re going to cruise around ‘til Frida gives us the go-ahead.” He cleared his throat and said, a little more loudly, “Frida, what’s the status on Team One?”
Frida answered immediately, “Team One has their package. Information should be forthcoming soon.” Juliet looked up at their comm channel and saw it had been labeled as Team Two.
“Is there a Team Three?” she asked.
“Yes. Barns and Tanaka will be on standby in case things go sideways inside Life-Ultra.”
“We’ve got the big dog backing us up,” Leo said with a wink.
“You mean Tanaka, right?” Juliet touched her visor release and, when it retracted, smiled crookedly at Leo.
“You think I call Barns the big dog?” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“Well, he’s bigger than you . . .”
“What?” He sounded scandalized. “In what way? I’m taller. . .”
“Oh, my God,” Juliet laughed. "Now I really know how to get you going.”
“Bleh!” He blew out a loud breath, shaking his head. “I fell for that one, didn’t I?” When Juliet just smiled, he kept talking, “Listen, I know we like to mess with each other, but when we get out of this car, we need to be all business, right? I need you to try to look as intimidating as possible. I know you said you’ve ‘played muscle’ before, but do you know what I mean?”
“I think I know exactly what you want.” As her mind went to memories of her time as Lacy Blake, especially when the pirates first boarded her vessel, Juliet had another thought. “What’s my cover ID, Frida?”
“Danika Cabot. Sending you the bullet points.” As soon as the document came through, Angel displayed it. It looked like Danika had been born on Callisto, and Juliet silently thanked Frida for picking a location she’d spent some time in. Danika was thirty, but Juliet figured she could pass for a young-looking thirty. She’d seen plenty of women nearing forty who still looked almost like teenagers. She had a false SOA ID focused on private security with an overall B-rating, meaning she’d had hundreds of positive reviews. The dossier was remarkably thorough, with prior employer numbers, a home address, and biometrics that, she assumed, matched her own.
“Did you help her with the biometrics?” she subvocalized.
“Yes. She sent a request for yours, and I gave her Lucky’s. If she wanted to, she could have gotten them all from your frequent visits to the dojo, so I didn’t think I was giving anything away . . .”
“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering if she gathered them or if you gave them to her.” Aloud, she asked, “Frida, how much of this ID is based on a real person?”
“Quite a bit. The former employee references and SOA ID are collated from a few other operatives. The rest is fiction. The contact information will all come through to my PAI. If anyone checks into you and Leo, I get to do some roleplaying of my own tonight.”
Juliet could hear the excitement in her voice. “You sound pleased.”
“I am! This is way more fun than that VR studio nonsense Leo tried to get us all to do.”
Leo looked wounded. “Hey now . . .”
“Hang on!” Frida’s voice cut him off. “Getting an update from Team One.”
While Frida spoke to the other team, Juliet looked at Leo and said, “We should come up with more creative team names next time.”
“Yeah?” He fidgeted with the built-in drink and snack cabinet and pulled out a disposable sonic flosser. As he leaned toward a mirror, baring his teeth, he asked, “What ya got in mind?”
“Uh, tonight, for instance, we could have Team Pretty Boy and Team Serious Business.”
“You calling Dora a pretty boy?” He winked over the mirror, and Juliet had to laugh. “She’s gonna kick your ass when I tell her you said that.”
She groaned. “A, you know I was talking about you, and, B, I think it’s you who’s going to get his ass kicked.”
“Better watch out—you’re starting to get a full plate. Didn’t you already challenge Barns?”
Before Juliet could answer, Frida spoke through comms, “We’ve got two names. That’s enough for you two to get started. We’re looking for dirt on Sabrina Estes and Luverne Lampkins. They’re both in the weight loss and anti-aging division of Life-Ultra.”
“Roger.” Leo’s eyes unfocused, and the town car picked up speed, moving with a definite sense of purpose. “En route.”
As they progressed through downtown Luna, Juliet looked at Leo and asked, “Weight loss? If those bastards were collecting organs for some kind of . . .” She couldn’t even finish the thought, she felt so disgusted.
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t even know what for. Drug safety protocols? I know some pharmaceuticals have to be tested on human tissue before live trials, but why all those organs? Maybe it’s not related to their work at all. Maybe these guys are just some scum who happen to work at Life-Ultra. We’ll see what we can dig up.” He looked out the window behind Juliet, nodded, and then made eye contact. “Get your game face on. We’re almost there.”
“Right.” Juliet lowered her visor and, just as she’d done a half dozen times back in the Jovian System, she began to make herself into a stone-cold killer. Her shoulders straightened, her posture shifted into a more aggressive stance, and she tilted her head in a way that made it look like she was getting ready to pounce on whatever she stared at. In this case, that was Leo Applebaum, and she felt a little thrill, feeding on his uncertainty, as he licked his lips and swallowed nervously.
“Jesus, you weren’t kidding. I can . . . I can feel it. Don’t start shooting in there for no reason, all right?”
Juliet, deep in her role, didn’t respond verbally, but she gave him an almost imperceptible nod. When the town car stopped and the door locks clicked open, she smoothly stepped out, standing in front of the opening, scanning the sidewalk and the transparent glass on the front of the building, gun held ready. When all she saw were a few nervous-looking pedestrians and a quiet, dimly lit lobby behind the glass doors, she moved to the side and allowed Leo to exit.
He nodded to her and walked up to the doors. They weren’t locked—like most corporations, Life-Ultra had twenty-four-hour shifts. Nobody sat in the lobby, though, and only one person sat at the reception desk, though a security officer staffed a checkpoint in front of the elevator bank.
Leo marched up to the counter, a spring in his step, and Juliet followed with a far more deliberate stride, her head on a swivel, scanning the area, her gun held ready. Angel rotated her ocular implants through different frequencies, highlighting things she found—cameras, security panels, scanners, a sidearm on the security officer, a larger gun beneath his station, and the cybernetic implants on his and the receptionist’s body, none of which looked like much to worry about.
“Um, hello, sir. How can we help you, uh, folks today?” The receptionist was a young man with curly hair that started brown at the roots and ended with frosty tips. He was lithe and clean, but his suit looked like it probably cost at most a hundred bits—the jacket was too big, the seams bulky, and his tie too wide to be in fashion. He glanced at Leo, then at Juliet, and he cringed back slightly, his hand hovering nervously near his data terminal as though he wasn’t sure if he should do something or not.
“Very nice to put a face to your name, Tim.” Leo nodded. “I’m running behind schedule; meant to be here at noon today, but you know how shuttle flights can be. Anyhow, we’ll get the inspection going. Don’t really need anyone to shadow us, so I don’t see why the evening shift will be a problem.”
Tim—Juliet noticed the nametag Leo must have clocked—looked around as though someone nearby could rescue him. When his eyes failed to settle on any help, he stammered, “Um, excuse me? In-in, um, inspection?”